


Peek-A-Boo

by felicitous



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Drowning, Ghosts, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 14:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicitous/pseuds/felicitous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Avengers go after their target into an abandoned house things aren't exactly what they seem. They aren't alone and they've just walked into a deadly game that no one's ever walked away from before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peek-A-Boo

**Author's Note:**

> This is why I shouldn't watch lots of T.V. and a ghost adventures marathon with my laptop. Bad things happen.

 “He went into that house,” Black Widow, said pointing to the large, fenced off, house. The place definitely looked like it had seen better days and it didn’t look like a great place to hide. Not that the guy they were after was the brightest crayon in the box.

“Then we're going to have to go in after him,” Captain America announced and Tony rolled his eyes. Leave it to Steve to want to go into the creepy ass house.

“You're kidding, right?” Hawkeye asked, “That place looks like it'll go paranormal on our asses if we go in there.”

“What do you mean 'paranormal'?” Thor said and Clint looked like he was about to cough up a hairball.

“He is referring to 'ghosts',” Bruce answered for him, having changed back while they had waited for the Widow to confirm their targets location. “Which are just a baseless superstition and do not exist.”

“They do to!” Clint argued.

“Guys, it doesn’t matter, we're going in whether you like it or not.” Captain America intervened, already starting up the path.

Natasha opened the door and peeked inside before motioning that it was safe. They went in one by one and fanned out in the wide entryway. The wood floor creaked loudly underneath their weight and Tony couldn't help but be grateful that Bruce wasn't hulked out right now. From what they could see where they stood there was a hallway that connected to the rest of the main floor, a flight of stairs that went up and next to them a flight of stairs that went down.

“We're going to split up to cover the area faster and easier.” Steve said.

“I'll take the basement, for obvious reasons.” Bruce volunteered, smiling slightly when Clint offered to go with him.

“I will take the upper floors,” Natasha answered next.”

“And I shall accompany her,” Thor added.

Steve nodded. “Iron Man and I will take this floor then. Keep communication and meet back here when you are done.”

The others nodded and went their ways.

Steve lead the way into a large living room and Tony followed behind him, moving his mask back from his face. There was a thick coating of dust covering the entire room. A large couch was by one wall, opposite a large fire place. There was a portrait above it displaying the ideal looking happy family. It gave Tony the creeps.

They didn’t linger long in the room, moving into a hallway that led to another room and had one door on each side.

“I'll take this one,” Tony said, motioning to the one he was closest too. Steve nodded, he never did speak much when they were on a mission, and opened his own door.

Tony's was a very old fashion bathroom that sent him into a gagging fit and made him close his face mask again. The entire thing looked rotted and smelled like it too. The bathtub was filled to the brim with what Tony guessed was very old, stagnant water and there were swarms of flies above it, many of which dive bombed Tony's face before escaping into the hallway. He shut the door quickly and turned back to Steve, shaking his head. “There is no way in HELL anyone could be in there.”

Steve chuckled and opened his door. Inside was a neat looking office. There was a large desk in the middle of the room with a plush chair behind it. There was still papers scattered across it, one of which had a pen laying on it, like the owner had left only temporarily, planning on coming back. To add to that feeling was a a half-full brandy glass, sitting next to one of the paper piles.

“Iron Man, what can you tell me about this place? Use the comm so everyone can be up-to-date.”

Tony used their GPS placement to get the address and pulled up the houses history. “This was the Rayker family house. The Rayker's were a well off family in the 1890's. One day though, they disappeared. No one knows what happened and the police report came up with nothing. They just... vanished. Any attempts made to clean out the house always resulted in some type of accident where people went missing or got hurt. After fifteen deaths or disappearances they gave up and left it as we see it now.”

 _“Ghooosts.”_   
Clint’s voice echoed through the comm and Steve rolled his eyes, much to Tony's amusement.

 _“I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for all of this,”_   
Bruce replied.

 _“Thanks for the history, Iron man,”_   
came Natasha's voice.

 _“Yes, that was quite an intriguing tale,”_   
Thor rumbled.

 __  
“Now that we all know this place has a history of accidents be sure to use extra caution.” Cap ordered and everyone muttered their acknowledgment. “Lets move on now.” he said to Tony this time.

“After you.”

Steve grinned slightly and moved down the hallway into the next room. It was a dinning room with a long table in the middle of the room, multiple chairs sitting around it. There was a large chandelier hanging above it, but that was all that was in the room so they moved on.

Next was a very large kitchen. Counters lined the walls, covered in various kitchen objects and a thick layer of dust. Steve gagged and buried his nose and mouth in the crook of his arm.

“Oh God, what is that smell?” He groaned, “It smells like burning flesh.”

Tony gave him a confused look before glancing around the room, his gaze resting on the stove. It was on.

He nudged Steve with his elbow and motioned to the stove. Steve nodded and they both made their way over to it. They stood on either side of the old appliance and Iron Man pulled it open in one swift motion. A cloud of smoke spilled out and Steve retched, covering his face even tighter. Tony leaned down to look inside and regretted it the moment he did. The man they were after was stuffed inside, skin charred, his mouth open in a silent scream.

“I don't think were alone here,” he said as he shut the stove, a scream sounding from upstairs seconds later.

Both he and Steve jumped to attention. They rushed out of the kitchen to go see what the cause was, but when they came into the dinning room they skidded to a halt. The table was pushed up against the far wall, right in front of the door with the chairs stacked on top of it.

“You've got to be kidding me.” Tony growled before he ran at the makeshift blockade, intending to plow straight through it. He was halfway to it when the chairs began to fly at him. The first ones he slammed right through, but when three hit hit at once with a surprising amount of force he found himself flying backwards through the wall into the kitchen.

“Tony! Are you alright?” Steve came into the room after him, helping him out of the wreckage.

“Ah, fuck, yeah, but I think Clint was right,” Tony groaned as he got to his feet. He was about to ask Jarvis to check the state of the suit and maybe call for back up when everything went black.

“Tony. Tony. Tony, are you there? Whats going on?”

“I don't know! The suit just turned off! It's like I’m being blocked or something. Nothing is responding! Everything is dead and its really starting to piss me off.” he yelled, knowing his voice would be muffled by the layer of metal.

“Tony.... There's something in your reactor.... it's not glowing anymore,”

And that’s when the pain started. He could feel something stabbing through the middle of his chest, right where the arc reactor is. He cursed his luck as he reached a shaky hand up to grab at the large, splintered piece of wood sticking out of his chest. What were the chances that he would get something in his most vulnerable spot.

He collapsed then, falling into Steve's strong arms. Tony started coughing up blood, the shrapnel hitting his heart finally. His mask was ripped up and Steve was staring at him with teary eyes.

“Get everyone out of here, babe,” Tony said smiling weakly up at him before erupting into another bloody coughing fit. His vision was starting to narrow and he was finding it hard to focus now.

“Tony I’m not leaving you. Tony, TONY!” Steve practically screamed, shaking Tony's now limp body, tears rolling down his face. He knew Tony was gone now and there was nothing he could do about it. Yet, he couldn't help but feel guilty. He should have stopped Tony. He should have been the one who tried to break through. Sure, Tony had a metal suit covering his entire body, but Steve had a shield and he was a lot stronger, he would have been fine.

Steve stood up straight, holding Tony's limp body in his arms, cradling it against his chest. “Avengers, make your way to the nearest exist and leave immediately.”

His order was met by silence, complete silence.

“Hello? Avengers? Natasha? Thor? Bruce? Clint? It anyone there!?” Steve yelled, his very soul filling with despair.

 _“He's gone, he's gone. They took him, he's gone.”_   
Clint’s voice rambled quietly in his ear.

“Clint, Hawkeye, what are you talking about who's gone? Who are 'they'?” the sheer terror and sorrow he could hear in Clint’s usually cocky voice seemed so out of place it only put Steve on edge more.”

 _“Bruce, mirror, took him. Their everywhere,watching listening. They took Bruce. They took him. They're going to get me too. I can hear them everywhere. Their house, 's their house.”_   
Clint babbled on and on, making less sense as he went and it became fairly obvious that he was sobbing now.

“Calm down, please, Clint, you need to calm down and tell me where you are. Listen to me, I’m coming for you. Okay, do you hear me? I’m coming for you, I promise,” he said this as he used his leg to move the table of of his way, thanking God that he wasn't being attacked yet. “Where are you, Clint?”

 _“I can't tell you. If I tell you they'll find me. Get yourself and Stark out. Don't worry about me. If I go out they'll kill me, they'll all kill me.”_

“Tony's dead.” his voice cracked when he said that and he felt a heartbroken hollowness fill him all over again. “Are you still in the basement? Are you safe?”

 _“Safe? Never safe. Can't trust you eyes, it's a lie it all a lie. Trust nothing, trust no one. Only out is safe. Never left, none of them. No one ever leaves. Go. Go now or they'll get you, Steve. Not real, nothing is real. They're playing with you're head. It's a game. All a game. Out is win. Out is safe.”_

“I'm not leaving withou-” Steve was cut off when Tony's hand closed around his throat. He looked down in shock and Tony's dead face stared back.

The hand tightened around his throat and Tony moved away from him. Steve pulled free of the grip and held his shield up. “Tony? Tony, you're dead.” the Tony-thing smiled at him, standing in the middle of the hallway, blocking his escape and something Clint had said echoed in his head    
_'Can't trust your eyes... Trust no one.'_   


He wasn't sure how Clint knew that, nor did he want to. Steve told himself over and over again that Tony was gone, Tony had died in his arms. He steeled his resolve and barreled forward, shield extended in front of him. He was almost to Tony when on of the hall doors was open and he was thrown into the bathroom.

Steve smacked into the wall, tile shattering against him, and fell to the floor with a thud. The smell was sickening and he heaved in pain and disgust, flies swarming around him as he tried to stand. He placed his hand on the tub and used it to help him get to his feet. It slipped inside when he did, the water sloshing around it, a bit splashing to the floor. He pulled at his hand, but it didn't budge instead sinking lower into the water. He could feel something tangled around it. He pulled with all his strength this time and it came out, with a decayed and waterlogged corpse holding on to it.

The creature screamed at him and he screamed back. It lunged forward and dug its fingers into his eyes, curling them so that they could hold onto him, before sinking back into the tub dragging him with, face first into the water. He scream of pain was cut off when he hit the water and struggled as hard as he could as water invaded his mouth and nose. He felt his hand crush something in the water and he pulled free coughing up water as a shriek echoed throughout the room.

He stood up again shakily, blood pouring down his face from the empty sockets where his eyes once were. He was slammed back into the wall again, then the other one and back again before he was finally thrown into the tub. Steve sat up immediately, thrashing and gasping for air.

A boney hand grabbed him by the throat, pulling him back under. He struggled against it, fighting to get free as the fingers of its other hand clawed at his mouth, trying to pry it open. It pressed harder the more he fought, tearing at his flesh and ripping his lips and throat apart, his blood staining the water.

 _“Steve, Steve, where are you? I’m scared,”_   
Clint’s quiet voice echoed in his ear as he began to fade away.

'I’m sorry Clint, I can't keep my promise, I’m not coming' was the last thing Steve thought as his last breath escaped him.

***

Natasha moved up the stairs as silently as possible, with Thor clunking along behind her, obviously not understanding that he needed to tread carefully in a place like this. The stairs lead into a long hallway, lined with doors and a large stained glass window, portraying a smiling family, staring up at the sun, at the other end. There was something about the window that put her on edge, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“We will search every room. I will take the ones on the left and you the right.” she said, looking back at the God.

“As you say. I shall inform you should I find anything.”

Natasha just nodded before moving to her first door. She opened it and looked inside. It was a simple sitting room. There were plush chairs in a semi-circle around a table in the center of the room. The table was covered in a fancy looking tea set and when she looked closer she could see the tea still sitting in the cup.

 _“This was the Rayker family house. The Rayker's were a well off family in the 1890's. One day though, they disappeared. No one knows what happened and the police report came up with nothing. They just... vanished. Any attempts made to clean out the house always resulted in some type of accident where people went missing or got hurt. After fifteen deaths and disappearances they gave up and left it as we see it now.”_   
Iron man's voice said, bringing them all up-to-date.

 _“Ghooosts.” Hawkeye_   
’s voice echoed through the comm. 

_“I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for all of this,”_   
Bruce replied.

“Thanks for the history Iron man,” Natasha said.

 _“Yes, that was quite an intriguing tale,”_   
Thor rumbled.

 _“Now that we all know this place has a history of accidents be sure to use extra caution,”_   
Captain America ordered and everyone muttered their acknowledgment.

“That explains the tea, kinda,” she said to herself, shutting the door behind her as she moved to the next room.

Natasha paused in front of it, her eyes glued to the window again. She could have sworn the people had been looking at the sun before but now they were all facing forward, looking straight at her. She suppressed a shiver and turned back to the door.

Inside she found an elegant bedroom. There was a large bed against the opposite wall, what looked like a large closet, a dressing screen and a giant wooden vanity. Natasha stepped inside and looked around. The room was neat and she made her way to the closet. It was empty save for the moth-eaten clothing.

She turned to leave then, pausing when she felt something close around her ankle. Nothing was there when she looked though, yet for some reason shecouldn’t move it. Natasha continued to pull over and over again, but to no avail. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she called for Thor.

Thor came into the room and gave her a confused look. “What it is you needed?”

“I'm stuck.” was all she said in reply.

Thor took a step towards her, but when he did the grip on her leg tightened and she was swept off her feet. She clawed at the wooden floor as she was pulled underneath the bed in one swift motion, disappearing with a scream.

Thor ran after her and flipped the bed to the side, where it smashed against the wall, but she wasn't there. He ran out of the room, checking all of the other rooms, turning any furniture that got in his way into piles of shattered wood.

He was about to head down stairs when he looked at the stained-glass mirror and froze. Natasha was in it, staring right at him. She lifted her hand and curled a finger at him calling him closer. Thor moved close, his eyes wide. “What kind of magic is this?”

He pressed his hand against the glass, right where Natasha's hand was. Her hand wrapped around his and her smile turned wicked, as she began to pull him in. Thor fought against he grip, pulling back, only to be pulled in further.

The last thing Thor heard was Captain America screaming Tony's name. Then the window exploded, shattering the parts of him that were in it and imbedding its piece in the rest of him. Everything went black.

***

Clint walked beside Bruce down the stairs into the blackness that was the basement. He pulled out a flashlight from one of his pockets and used it to illuminate the darkness. It was one large room, filled with random objects, all covered in sheets.

They walked carefully, sticking close to each other so as not to get lost or trip over anything. Bruce pulled the sheets off the things as they went, making Clint cough at all the dust that flew into the air.

“Do you actually think he's down here?” Clint asked suddenly.

“Who knows? Maybe,” Bruce shrugged, “We won't know till we check.”

“Well can we hurry it up, this place is giving me the creeps...”

“You watch too much television.”

“I do not! I just have good intuition and there is something wrong with this place.”

Bruce was about to reply but settled for rolling his eyes when Iron man began to speak.

 _“This was the Rayker family house. The Rayker's were a well off family in the 1890's. One day though, they disappeared. No one knows what happened and the police report came up with nothing. They just... vanished. Any attempts made to clean out the attempt always resulted in some type of accident where people went missing or got hurt. After fifteen deaths and accidents they gave up and left it as we see it now.”_   
Iron man's voice said, bringing them all up-to-date.

“Ghooosts.” Clint groaned.

“I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for all of that,” Bruce replied.

 _“Thanks for the history Iron man,”_   
came Natasha's voice.

 _“Yes, that was quite an intriguing tale,”_   
Thor rumbled.

 _“Now that we all know this place has a history of accidents be sure to use extra caution.”_   
Captain America ordered and everyone muttered their acknowledgment.

“You're such an ass,” Clint snapped.

“I was just stating the truth, there is a reasonable explanation for everything,” Bruce retorted, starting to count backwards slowly in his head.

“Whatever,” Hawkeye just gave him a dirty look and moved on, pulling off the sheet faster than they had been before.

“Clint,” Bruce began.

“Just forget it,” Clint snapped, turning away to look at the giant mirror he had just uncovered. “That's a big mirror.”

Bruce nodded, moving closer to it, inspecting the intricate carvings on the side.

A scream sounded from upstairs and Clint spun around, recognizing it as Natasha's. He turned back when he heard Bruce sputtering behind him.

But Bruce wasn't there. His reflection was, pressed up against the mirror, pounding on it and staring straight at Clint with a horrified expression. He pressed his hand to the mirrors cold surface, right where Bruce's cheek was. The moment they touched Clint flew backwards, slamming into a tall dresser so hard it tipped over, taking him with it.

Hysterical laughter filled the air, like that of a small child, and it sent a shiver down his spine. Clint sat up dizzily, he could feel the blood running down the back of his neck from where his head had collided with a drawer handle. When he looked back to the mirror he saw the Hulk pounding against his side, cracking it.

“No!” Clint yelled, running toward him. He had only taken three steps before he was thrown backwards once more, this time into the wall. He felt his ribs crack on impact and landed on the floor in a heap. He heard the Hulk roar, the sound of glass shattering following almost immediately.

He lifted his head to look at the wooden structure that once held the mirror. There were still a few piece there, but most of it was shattered on the floor. Clint chocked on his tears as he struggled to stand. He had to leave, he had to get out of here because if he stayed any longer he would die. Just like Bruce had.

There was a loud bang above him and the house trembled violently, letting him know that the others were in danger as well right now. Clint headed straight for the stairs, but froze at the bottom, staring in horror at the figure halfway up them.

His father was standing there, staring down at him.

“No, No. You're dead. You, you killed yourself. YOUR DEAD.” Clint screamed, backing away as his father just laughed, following him down.

“I'll never be dead, Clint. You thought you'd finally escaped me, didn't you? What you didn't realize is that I am part of you. I will you always be with you. You will never be alone.”

“No! Leave me alone!” He screeched, shooting arrow after arrow right through the illusion that was his father and into the stairs behind him.

“Run, Clint, run. That's the only thing you've ever been good at.”

And Clint did run. He ran to the other side of the room, stopping when he reached the far wall. He searched frantically for a way a out, a place to hide, anything. He almost cried in relief when he spotted the small door in the corner, just large enough for him to be able to crawl through.

Inside he found a tiny room. It was large enough to sit up in, but he had to keep his knees against his chest and his legs were pressed against the door, keeping it shut. He could here Cap screaming at Tony upstairs, but he couldn’t hear what was being said because of the other voices he heard. Outside there were people, voices, calling out to him taunting him.

“Come out, come out where ever you are~”

“You know we'll find you, we find e-e-e-everyone.”

“You're a coward, Clint. You always were.”

“We can see you. We're always watching.”

“You're never going to leave. You and you're friends will be here forever.”

“Come out and play a game with me. I’m not very good at hide and seek. Lets play something else.”

“You should have stayed out of this house.”

“You knew, you knew all along.” That was Natasha's voice.

“Your fault, its all your fault.”

“Come out and you'll be with your friends again.”

 _“Avengers, make your way to the nearest exist and leave immediately.”_

Clint was too afraid to answer, to move. It might be a lie. They could be playing another trick on him, trying to lure him out. He curled up tighter as the voices outside continued on, Bruce's voice joining them.

“You knew, Clint. Why didn't you stop us from coming in? You could have saved me. It's your fault, but if you come at it will be all better. I promise, I will make it better. When have I ever broken a promise to you? You know I love you, Clint. I'll forgive you if you come out.”

“   
_Hello? Avengers? Natasha? Thor? Bruce? Clint? It anyone there!?_   
” Steve's voice crackled through the intercom once more.

“He's gone, he's gone. They took him, he's gone.” Clint rambled when he turned on his comm, more to himself than to Steve.

“I'm not gone, Clint. I will always be with you.”

 _“Clint, Hawkeye, what are you talking about who's gone? Who are 'they'?”_   
Steve's voice sounded tight and uneven, like he was on the edge of a mental breakdown as well.

“Bruce, mirror, took him. Their everywhere,watching listening. They took Bruce. They took him. They're going to get me too. I can hear them everywhere. Their house, 's their house.” Clint babbled on and on, making less sense as he went, starting to cry

“Of course its our house, but it's going to be yours as well when you come out.”

 _“Calm down, please, Clint, you need to calm down and tell me where you are. Listen to me, I’m coming for you. Okay, do you hear me? I’m coming for you, I promise. Where are you, Clint?”_

“I can't tell you. If I tell you they'll find me. Get yourself and Stark out. Don't worry about me. If I go out they'll kill me, they'll all kill me.” he knew it was true, sorta. He had the feeling that they knew where he was, but for some reason they weren't coming to get him. There was something special about this crawlspace that was keeping them out.

 _“Tony's dead,”_   
Steve's voice cracked ,    
_“Are you still in the basement? Are you safe?”_

 __  
“Of course you're safe, Clint. I would never let anyone hurt you. Come out and let me take care of you. I'll make sure it never hurts again.” Bruce's voice cooed from just outside.

“Safe? Never safe. Can't trust you eyes, it's a lie it all a lie. Trust nothing, trust no one. Only out is safe. Never left, none of them. No one ever leaves. Go. Go now or they'll get you, Steve. Not real, nothing is real. They're playing with you're head. It's a game. All a game. Out is win. Out is safe.” He rambled, he felt like he was losing his mind. Nothing made sense anymore and it just made it worse that he knew he was going to die. They were all going to die.

 _“I'm not leaving withou-”_   
Steve was cut off suddenly and Clint's blood ran cold.

He heard loud bangs upstairs, a tortured scream and an eerie shriek that made his hair stand on end. It was silent for a moment then he heard a splash. Then nothing.

“Steve, Steve, where are you? I'm scared.” Clint admitted, burying his face in his knees. He couldn't remember ever feeling so terrified or so alone in his entire life.

When no one replied his crying turned to sobs. He knew he was the only one left. He was going to be the last to die. Clint started to contemplate just crawling out and letting them have their way with him. He started shifting his legs so he could open it, but paused when he heard heavy, booted footsteps coming down the stairs.”

“Clint? Clint, where are you?” Steve's voice called.

Clint's head flew up so fast he smacked at on the ceiling. “I'm over here!” he yelled,opening the door carefully.

Steve squatted down in front of the crawlspace and grinned at Clint, who was still curled up in the crawlspace, his lips and throat shredded open and bleeding. His eyes completely missing. “Peek-a-boo.”

Clint didn't even have the chance to scream.


End file.
